


Past Mistakes

by BluC1026



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Neville Longbottom, F/F, Ginny Weasley Bashing, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley Bashing, Ron Weasley Bashing, Seer Luna Lovegood, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluC1026/pseuds/BluC1026
Summary: Truth Will Out. This is its own truth. Once it does those who are at fault are not even aware of their mistakes. Taking a chance Hadrian and his own decide to do the insane and fix the past so those mistakes can never occur. What was not expected was the uneasy alliance...or more disconcerting the easy alliance...that began to form. They knew the stories what people said about him before his insanity...yet they did not appreciate exactly what that could mean.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Abraxas Malfoy, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65





	1. Hogsmeade

**Author's Note:**

> I have been having this story rattling around in my head for too long. I thoroughly enjoy the young Tom Riddle and have an interest in the two distinct group persona's that are Harry's and Tom's. I have a lot planned out already and am waiting myself to see how this mixing would evolve and affect the whole. 
> 
> This is taking place in Tom Riddle's 6th year...After the Diary Horcrux. I have always felt that the isolation the Diary experienced contributed to his own persona and development...Even with the first Horcrux Tom Riddle is not yet lost, though he was not completely the same.

Cold. The cold bite of winter’s wind flowed through the building’s side streets and struck a set of azure eyes, moistening from the sting, that were in a constant state of movement. Eyes taking in everything around them with a sense of knowing beyond what was being seen. Snow lay in piles along the town’s drive and students passing up and down the street, enjoying the semblance of freedom gained from a weekend outside of the castle’s walls. He observed, always observed, the hundreds of student’s milling about, some at their own leisurely pace, others walking briskly, but all bundled tightly in their in their robes with their heads bowed away from the sharp winds. He himself stood tall, showing no adverse reaction the cold of the day, it was nothing he was unused to. Growing up in the heart of London, with little in the way of protection against the bitter winter months, built his resistance against the piercing cold. Oh, he most defiantly felt it, that was not in question, yet his body’s natural mechanisms had been curbed as he had trained himself to show no physical reaction to the unrelenting freeze. Show no weakness

Even his…friends…, who he had expected more of, still exhibited outwards signs of discomfort in the prolonged exposure to the harsh Scotland winter. His eyes flashed around to his inner circle. He should not really be surprised; they all grew up living protected and sheltered childhoods. Their simplest falls and injuries immediately cooed over and healed with a single _episkey_ from mommy or the family healer. He felt his agitation rise and quickly stopped himself from sneering at the group before him. None of the wizards surrounding him had knew what true survival meant, what it was to have true strength built from years of isolation and degradation brought on by fear. Years that allowed him to grow to the point that he now stood, years that, in their own way, prepared him for this world he entered at the age of eleven. This immeasurable world that was his to enjoy, his to learn from, and his to protect from those who were ruled by their own fear.

Muggles…how he detested them, yet while he hated every minute of his cursed existence among them, he at least understood their way of life. Which is more than can be said for those that stood around him. He understood the threat that they posed, with their bombs and wars, with their science, and with their constant fear of anything they were unable to explain. He understood them in a way that none of the superior purebloods could guess at, believing that the magic they possessed made them invincible to those without. And this was the divide between himself and the magical populace. Wizards remained hidden in the shadows of the world unaware of muggle advancements and blind to their progress. He may not have much regard for the muggles, but he was aware enough to understand that they have advanced far beyond what Wizards believe, and if these advancements continued then the threat of discovery would become all too real. He would not let it occur. He would use the connections available to him to build his network, expand his reach, gain the knowledge unavailable to him due to the circumstances of his birth and obtain his own standing. He would raise the wizarding world above the threat of the muggles and increase their own stagnant society.

He smirked, feeling slight satisfaction at the shiver that run through his group at the action. No matter their strengths, and they each held distinct talents of merit, his own power eclipsed that of his chosen to the point that they each bowed their heads in respect. The once despised boy of the poor orphanage, the unwelcomed Slytherin with the muggle surname and unknown parentage, the one once scorned as a mudblood of their house, one they now knew was half-blood heir of their founder. They followed him, his lead, his words and they would follow him however he asked in the future that was to come.

His eyes made another sweep of the wizards moving with him. Abraxas Malfoy was the most prominent, with his white-blonde shoulder length hair and fair features, blue-gray eyes glancing around the bustling square. He strode tall and proud with the grace all Malfoys seemed to inherently possess, yet he held his woolen cloak close, and his body and periodically shook with cold tremors. Alphard Black was to his other side strolling with a swaggering confidence that sometimes shown as a playful arrogance. His dark hair fell in waves past his shoulders and was held back with a leather thong. His ivory complexion flowed nicely against the loose midnight strands, and his smoke gray eyes shown with a spark of mischief noticed by few. Nicholas Lestrange was next of the group, his shorter mahogany hair curled close to his head, and his Slytherin scarf tied tightly around his neck. His gloved hands pushed deep in his pocket. Nicholas had a golden toned skin that never seemed to lose its sheen, even in the darkest months, which bespoke of his family’s roots from the south of France. Elias Nott followed beside him with his usual book held tightly to his chest. His soft brown hair and hazel eyes roved before him as his slightly shorter legs broaden their stride to maintain pace. Zacaris Prince was the final of his circle, his alabaster skin stood in sharp contrast to his ink black hair and eyes. Sharp features and a sculpted brow spoke of the Roman heritage present in both him and his twin sister.

Tom Marvolo Riddle paused as they reached the middle of the square. His friends halted for a moment then came to fill in a circle as his eyes danced across the square, gaze pausing briefly on the local pub before landing on a specific store front further down the main path. He planned to head into the Tomes and Scrolls bookstore to search through their older title for those he had not been fortunate to discover yet. He would send the others on to the Three Broomsticks to have a drink and warm up while they wait. If they chose to visit the other shops during that time it would be of no interest to him. He despised the feeling of others breathing over his shoulder while he browsed, though none of his Knight’s would be so foolish, and he himself found no desire to traverse from one shop to another. Tom only ever truely found anything of value in the well-known bookstore, though those trips were beginning to yield less and less as each year passed. The shop was not a popular stop for the students celebrating their false freedom from the school, ensuring that peace was found. Also due to the remote location of the town, and years of low traffic volume, the result was a slow buildup of the collection’s quality tombs, hidden like a gems for him to find.

Tom often wondered how the store had sustained through the years but could only assume that the town did have its own renown. That and when searching for select tombs individuals would start with those stores known to have a history of success. As such the sale of higher priced and sough first editions must have accounted for the store’s continued existence. While he had never had the monetary reserves to purchase those tombs, he had charmed his way into being able to read through them while they were still in the shop, though those tombs never did stay long. He had also painstakingly cultivated a relationship with the owners, which resulted a more affordable price for the more obscure tombs collecting dust in the second-hand section. He mentally sneered at the thought, refusing such an open display in so public a setting, of how pathetically sentimental emotional relations made a person. How easy it was to bend another’s Will with a few complementary words.

Tom was about to tell his Knights to move on without him when a flash of movement caused him pause. He turned, eyes locking on a peculiar group on individuals walking out of a side ally of the main square. They were peculiar not because they were a group of school-aged teens in Hogsmeade, as it was a Hogsmeade weekend, but because they were a group of school-aged teens in Hogsmeade that Tom did not recognize. There were six of them in total and the moved in a way that felt familiar to Tom, though he knew he had he did not know them. It was possible that they attended Hogwarts and he simply had never meet them, missed them in the crowd… he rejected that thought. He prided himself on his knowledge of the students inside the school and knew even if he had only seen them in passing, he would have known their faces. He doubted they would have fallen into the background anyway. They were too distinctive… too different, even so different from one another. The only commonality being the distressed appearance of their attire. Regardless, he was sure that if this group stood together, they would have stood out, they would have been known. It was in the way they carried themselves, a confidence seldom seen beyond the pure-blood circles, yet there was something else, something that did not exactly line up with what one would expect form those same circles.

They had moved out of the side street just far enough to be on the edge of the square and, almost unconsciously it seemed, formed a circle of their own. He could not quite pinpoint a focus of the circle but noted that three of the six appeared engaged in an intense discussion. There were two who looked to be older by a couple of years, that he could confidently say were twins. They both had violently orange, and loosely styled, hair paired with blue eyes and pale skin tones lightly sprinkled with freckles across their noses. Their traits seem to follow that of the Prewitt or Weasley line; though their clothes, disregarding the current state, appeared to high of quality for the ladder They seemed to be less inclined to the ongoing conversation as their eyes leapt back and forth between the three that spoke. A shorter dark blond boy stood across from them with a rounded face and soft brown eyes, he seemed involved in the conversation but also seemed to be the softer spoken of the three.

Beside him stood a smaller female with trait’s reminiscent of the Malfoy line. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back into a loose braid, skin pale as Abraxas’s yet with softer, more feminine features than the man. The girl seemed nearly disconnected from the those around her, disengaging completely from the conversation with a slight sway, yet remaining directly beside her selected group. At that moment of observation, she turned her head just enough to meet his own stare directly. Refusing to disrupt his gaze, as etiquette called for, he noted that her eyes were of the clearest blue, reflective of the sky on a clear summer day and defiantly not the blue-gray of the Malfoy beside him. A smile seemed to lift her pale lips before she turned back to her own group.

The other female stood directly opposite of Tom, she had loosely curled brown hair, a deep olive skin tone and chocolate eyes the flashed sharply in the afternoon light. The girl was gesticulating in a manner that boarded on arguing with the male before her. The only one whose face he was unable to see.

The male’s back was facing directly towards Tom and though he could only see him from behind Tom felt he would have been immediately recognizable if only for his hair. It was untamed, artfully messy and the darkest of black, dark enough that it seemed to go blue in places as his head shifted between the blond male and the gesticulating female. He was shorter than all but the blonde female, though he held himself in a manner that spoke of a confidence few seemed to possess. Tom observed the male as he continued his conversation. His body seemed relaxed, yet there was a subtle shift in posture when he listened and when he spoke. He crossed his arms, and it seemed to have an immediate effect on the group, their attention seemed to tighten, and they appeared to be taking in his words with a great weight. At this point if Tom were to identify a center of their circle it would have been the one who, irritatingly enough, had his back towards Tom and his own Knights.

In his continued observation of the group before him he ignored the questioning looks that he received. Tom was sure that he had never seen this group around Hogwarts and wondered at the likelihood of these, seemingly school-aged, individuals arriving at Hogsmeade on one of the few weekends of the year the students were released from the school. There was always the possibility that they were here to meet up with one of the hundreds of Hogwarts students currently roaming around the town, but the lack of any Hogwarts students around, or approaching, them rejected this theory. So, who were they?

If he were to guess he would place the two blondes and brunet in either their fifth or sixth year, his own year, and the two red heads in either their seventh year or having just graduated. As for the other male, he could make no judgement from this vantage. It was frustrating to Tom, there was something about the male that…he could not explain it, but it felt as it something was different with him…a sense. He seemed to radiate a power s that made Tom…curious.

In that moment the black-haired male froze. His entire body stilling and tense at some unseen trigger before loosening again. His arms dropped slowly, as if he did so with great care, and a subtle wrist movement resulted in a slim length of brown wood sliding into his hand, thought he tucked it closely to the folds of his cloak. He turned his head slightly and Tom caught sight of a pair of wire glasses, with a flash of brilliant green, as the male stared down the street with a piercing intensity. Tom watched the movement of male’s lips as he spoke and noted, in his periphery, that the companions of the male had made subtle adjustments of their own.

Tom could not explain why but his own carefully developed senses were indicating he would be prudent to follow suit. His own wand dropped from his holster to his palm He spoke to those around him “I think it may be wise to prepare ourselves gentlemen”. He saw the renewed questioning looks and raised eyebrows but ignored them in favor of observing. The raven male had just turned back to his group and seemed to be more direct in his speech. Those around him had all frozen and zeroed in on him with a certainty that spoke of their own trust and experience in his words. Tom raised an eyebrow as the group split into smaller groups of two.

The two blonds strolled down the street with an ease that hinted at none of the disquiet that present mere moments prior. The two redheads bounced across the street and into the Three Broomsticks with seemingly no care in the world. The brunet and the green-eyed male stayed at their point, the female leaning back into the wall behind her arms crossing with wand held half hidden beneath her left forearm. The male moved closer to the wall, turned just enough to press himself sideways against it, seemingly at ease, and glanced over his shoulder, down the street behind him. As he turned his head back around and towards the brunet, he seemed to catch sight of Tom and halted. Their eyes connected and green remained fixed with blue before moving downwards. There his gaze seemed to linger, frozen, eyes narrowing into piercing points with the barest spark before they shuttered closed. The gaze returned upwards and held his own for a moment longer. Then green eyes blinked and he abruptly turned away as if realizing his impropriety. Strangely, his posture appeared to tighten, and he was now holding himself with an edge that was not there a moment before. Tom’s curiosity peaked at the reaction, only noticeable because of his intense scrutiny. It was in this moment that everything shifted, breaking his focus, as the cheerful and festive early December day was obliterated under a rain of spell fire.


	2. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A closer look at the history behind the why they are there.

The room was dark with the flickering of soft orange light against the walls. Candles were spread around the room sitting in sconces and low hanging chandeliers to compensate as the natural light was unable to reach the deep chamber of the old ancestral home. A boy with messy, jet black hair and green eyes stood in the center of the floor studying its markings with a keen eye. He wore a pair of dark fitted trousers, black dragonhide boots, and a black button down shirt, which draped lightly against his frame while untucked. A heavy woolen emerald cloak hung, ignored, on a peg in the wall across the room, out of place with the warmth that was late July. He held a book on runes open on his palm with his other pressed under his chin. The boy, near man, hummed lowly as he stepped slowly around the circle of runes. He was checking and re-checking their accuracy against the pages of the tomb, concerned of the possible consequences if a single one was drawn incorrectly.

His mind was so engrossed in his musings that he failed to respond to the low rumble of the heavy iron door of the chamber, nor did he respond to the gentle calling of two of his closest friends. He continued his pacing, muttering lowly to himself and so absorbed that he nearly dropped his book as he startled from the hand on his arm. The only thing keeping him from drawing his wand was his absolute certainty in the security of the recently refreshed wards and that only his trusted had even known that he owned of the property.

“Hadrian, are you alright?” Hermione asked gently.

Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. Letting out the low breath he smiled softy towards his blood sister. “Yes Mione, I’m fine. I was just double checking the rune circle.” Hermione looked at him critically and then eyed the book in his hands. Taking it gently from him she said “You’ve already triple checked this circle last night and have most likely checked it twice more today already. We researched and drew them together, and the ritual was built from theories inside this very castle, with the support of research found in both the Chamber and the Library. It will work.” She smiled reassuringly at him and continued, “Plus we have the reassurance of Luna behind us.” She moved aside to where Hadrian could see past her to Neville and Luna who had held back outside the edge of the circle.

“Hey Neville, Luna.” He was genuinely glad to see them, his friends where like balms to his nerves. What they were attempting went beyond the realm of sanity, it was not so much what they were planning, but getting there that was the problem. Time magic was temperamental and should a single aspect be miscalculated then the likelihood of surviving the ritual itself was minimal. Not to mention messing with time itself was dangerous and if they did not measure their actions with care, they could make a change they had not intended. With the few people he allowed himself to care for being involved in the ritual, he wanted to ensure nothing would be left to chance. Luna swept forward, just about floating over the rune markings, and hugged him tightly as only she or Hermione were able to do. Pulling back, Luna stated in her airy yet firm manner “All will be well Hadrian. Ripples will soon obscure the surface, changing the view.” She smiled her secretive smile and Hadrian felt himself exhaling in relief at her words. No doubt in her words. His own abilities may have increased significantly in the past year, but he would never believe himself infallible.

“Thank you Luna, I simply do not wish to risk you all needlessly.”

“You won’t” She stated in that tone that was never used outside of their circle and that none of them tended to argue with.

Neville moved forward, looking down so as to be careful not to smudge the runes, and grasped Hadrian tightly on the shoulder. “We trust your judgement Hadrian, and his own decisions have led us to this point. He is his own worst enemy and has made his own bed,” Neville’s smile was positively ruthless in his next statement “and it’s our job to make him lay in it.” The tone of voice and expression on his face was so vicious, that his classmates and professors would question if this was really the same boy. He squeezed Hadrian’s shoulder tightly before dropping his hand. This was the true Neville they knew beneath his mask. The one that had grown with them over this last year behind closed doors, and the one that was not about to allow another to dictate the path of either himself or his true friends. Although of one asked Neville he would argue that he got off lightly in comparison to Hadrian.

Hermione cleared her throat and said “How about we stand outside of the Runes while we wait for the others. Better not to risk displacing the ambient magic of the circle before we are ready.” The four stepped around the markings carefully and Hadrian noted for the first time that the three had placed their own winter cloaks on the additional pegs on the wall. None of them were dressed for the warmth of the summer. Hermione had dressed in cream colored slacks with an ivory sweater that was tailored neatly against her figure, highlighting the fact that she was nearing womanhood, and brown leather calf high riding boots. Her hair fell in loose curls down her back with the top pinned back away from her face, softening her features in the flickering light. Neville himself had opted for a pair of grey trousers, black dress shoes, and deep purple dress shirt that was currently tucked, all tailored to fit. Neville’s blond hair was much tamer than Hadrian’s own and styled neatly in place. Luna stood in light black linen pants with her own black boots peaking out the bottom, and a sapphire blue sweater with a high neck. Her white-blond hair was braided back and ended midway down her back. All in all they were decked out for the cold of winter, and Hadrian himself was more than thankful for the cool air of the ritual chamber that was in sharp contrast to current weather patterns.

“Any word from the twins?” he asked, concerned that they had not arrived yet,

“No,” Hermione shook her head “they had a few things they wanted to tie up at the store but should not be too much longer.” She looked down at her watch. “They need to be here soon, or the timing will be off.” She looked over to Luna.

“We will have the time.” She looked away and towards the door. “As long as the Nargles, stop harping they will arrive within the hour”, Luna said, combining her public misdirection with her private clarity. Hadrian looked closely at the girl before him. She was so much more than what others saw. She had known from a young age that she was different and adapted herself to meet what others believed. It was only in those rare moments when she was with those which she trusted that she allowed who she really was to shine through. Her sight brought her difficulties as she knew that if the wrong person discovered her talent then it would end badly for her. Thus, her misdirection. If people believed her odd then they would disregard her, avoid her, and not consider her closely, she would be safe. However, this did not work with Hadrian. He saw past her exterior understood it was a mask. Yet the mask was so deep and worn for so long that Luna herself was unsure where it ended, and she began. Hadrian, and consequently Hermione, Neville, and the twins, were able to identify Luna for Luna and gave her an anchor to pull herself back to reality. While she was more in tune with herself around who she considered her family, Hadrian knew her own misdirection had started to bleed into herself and had only been able to begin to pulling herself back with in this last year because of those in this room and the twins. He was concerned for her but was aware enough to know he could only continue to do what they were doing and allow her the opportunity to return to her true self.

He looked towards Neville, “No problems on your end then?” he asked with a raised brow. Neville smiled that ruthless grin of earlier and responded “None, I simply asked dear old Gran for some afternoon tea, and the proper herbs allowed her a “peaceful” rest.” He chuckled lightly, “while it may not last, watching her open eyed understanding of just what she had wrought will be a memory I will hold onto closely.” His face sobered after a moment, “I do worry for Janey though, she was always kind to me and should not have to walk into that, nor feel abandoned”. It was Hadrian’s turn to squeeze his friend’s shoulder. “She will be okay Neville.” He stated calmly, “with any luck Janey will not even realized that anything happened to the Dowager…” Hadrian gave his own sinister smirk that sent shivers down the spine “well maybe not what happened this time”.

He turned to Hermione “And you Mione? How was your own venture?” Hermione chuckle darkly, as sound many would be shocked to hear from the olive toned girl. “Nothing more or less, than a simple reset of their memories. They would have rather not had a daughter than have a witch for a daughter, well now they can remember the pain of loosing their little girl as a baby due to their own carelessness….at least for now. Eventually I would like to make sure that they have no ability to parent a witch,” she said with a scoff. She looked towards the wall, then added as an aside “they have no understanding of what it means”. Harry gave her an indulgent smile and nodded his head in acquiescence when she looked back at him.

“Daddy, was most agreeable.” Luna said with a smile. Hadrian sighed turning to look at her, he trusted Luna but her father was an unknown and a complication. He knew her father was the only other individual Luna had any comfort around and that he would always appear supportive of her decisions. Yet, at the same time, he was always so wrapped up in his own creature hunts that it was as if he was not fully aware of what she chose to do. They all knew that his own distance from his daughter did not help her adjustment, yet Luna herself did not appear to care. She loved him because while he may not be a present father, he was unfailing kind to and open to her odd behaviors when he was there, unlike so many others. At one point Hadrian had worried about how open she may have been with her father simply because he was an uncontrolled variable, and none of them were willing to hurt her by hurting him, although that concern had been quashed rather effectively. Luna had surprised them all when she informed them that he did not know of her sight. According to Luna she had not wanted to put that burden on him, yet Hadrian was concerned there was more behind her decision. It was clear she loved her Father but she needed to cultivate her misdirection from an early age, and they all were concerned about how that impacted her psyche, more than their distaste for their guardians impacted theirs’.

She stared back with open eyes “He knows nothing beyond me telling him that I am going on a trip and may not be returning.” Here her eyes reflected an odd combination of the sadness that she seldom allows to show, and an honest happiness of being where she was “He told me to enjoy myself, and he would see me at Christmas as he had his own hunt planned after recently reported sightings of the South Siberian Heliopaths.” She nodded sagely at their narrowed eyes, “they are rather rare and burn a brighter white than those in Northern Europe.” Hadrian took a deep breath and resisted the urge to tear after her father and torture him to true insanity. While his own childhood was not what he would call enjoyable, the damage done to the girl in front of him by the early loss of her mother and a father who paid more attention to elusive creatures than the daughter who needed him was enough to test his tenuous control. Luna deserved more than what she was given.

He opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by the low rumble of the chamber door, causing him to turn towards the paired voices of twin devils “…ensure the removal of her vocal cords.” Fred was saying darkly, manic glint present in his eyes. “How she could even make an assumption like that when rejected everything about it before.” George said shaking his head in disbelief, his own irritation creeping beneath the surface. Fred opened his mouth to respond only to realize that they had the full attention of the other three. “Our apologies for running behind. We were held up after finishing with Lee.”

“Let, me guess,” Hadrian said evenly “the lovely harpy and her kin?” Anger flashed in to his eyes as he thought of the Weasley Matriarch and her oh so lovely children, barring a selected few. Fred groaned and covered his eyes, while George said, “We had just concluded our final rundown with Lee, collected what we needed and were heading out of the door when they barged into the middle of the store.”

“Nearly ran us through” Fred added lowly.

“She starts talking about the store, how successful it had been, and how the “family” would finally be going to be able to…What was it Fred?” Fred snorted and said “Would finally be able to improve their standing. As if our success is communal property.”

“Ron and Ginny stood directly behind her, just nodding along with these smug looks. Expectant. She had the audacity to ask for the key to _our_ vault for their school supplies.” George shook his head again, then chuckled. “Wish you could have seen their faces when we said no. She was slightly reminiscent of your _dear Uncle_ in one of his rages Hadrian. I swear had we not seen her cast spells as we grew up, one may have thought them twins.” He stopped for a moment looking towards Hadrian, who smiled with no humor, but made sure they knew no line was crossed with a gentle nod to continue. “Sweet _Ronnikins_ gained his usual sunburn and looked as constipated as he did when he received his OWL results.” George continued.

“And Ginny did not look as if she could even understand the concept of “No”.” Fred broke in with a roll of his eyes. “She was never a bright one though, only able to understand what was of benefit to her.” It was Fred’s turn to shake his head, “It was probably best they did not now we had given our key to Lee for safe keeping.” He looked directly at Hadrian “We think they were going to make their move this year Hadrian. If they had not already tried. Have you had yourself checked recently?”

Harry felt his eyes widen slightly and his breath catch; he had not been to visit the Goblins since the Easter Holiday. Having been occupied by finalizing the plans for the ritual and believing everything to have been squared away with their vaults Hadrian had focused his time, when he could feasibly escape the Dursley’s with out raising the alarm of the chicken order, on working the ritual with Hermione and Luna. He exhaled lowly. “No, I have not. I had not noticed any signs”.

“They may have been administering it gradually to make it appear more natural. We think you should go to the Goblins when we arrive.” Fred replied.

Hadrian grabbed at the back of his neck looking towards the floor, he did not want to have had to deal with this now. “We cannot go right away.” He said and looked back up at the others, “We know that. We have to proceed as planned. However,” and here he looked each of them directly in the eye “if there are any changes in my behaviors you need to get me to the Chamber or the Goblins as soon as possible. We have the benefit that she will not be there, and some anonymity but if he has any semblance of control then…” he stopped. “I cannot go back.”

He said this firmly and with no room for discussion. He knew he was powerful and that he had grown into himself over the past year and a half, but he would always have the fear of returning to the tool he was before fourth year. Before he was able to open his eyes and before the seeming curse of the Tournament turned into his salvation. He learned how to let his Slytherin self out and that he was not as light as he was led to believe. Luckily, he had also learned who he could trust and that some where not as they appeared. He continued his persona, as it was too dangerous for him not to, and began to self-teach.

Long nights in the Library drew Hermione’s attention, and Ron’s avoidance, and after a few months’ discussions opened onto dark versus light and the realization that they were both hiding their core from the other was a natural progression. Not long after Neville stumbled into their group and Hadrian found Luna alone in an unused classroom one night after her year mates had be particularly cruel. When Dobby handed over the gillyweed for that farce of a second task, Ron would never be what he sorely missed, he revealed to Harry the existence of the Room of Requirement and they moved their sessions to the private venue. And the Twins, being the Twins of course, followed them after noticing how Neville, Hermione and Hadrian were not always where they should be. They had always had a dark core, and only in Gryffindor as a matter of personal survival. Hadrian was certain that they were like him an argued against placement their true house. For him it was due to his compulsions and conditioning, for them it was due to needing to blend in with their family until they could break free.

Hadrian had lost himself in his thoughts and the others could clearly see the ghosts behind his eyes. Hermione stepped forward, gently grasping his arm. “Hadrian” She said quietly, his eyes turned to her, dead looking “You know, we will not let you. You know you will never go back. Your own strength prevents that. If they did anything we will know, and we will act.” He smiled back a little strained. He trusted their ability to read him and if there was any chance that something had been slipped past his defenses then he will fight it as long as he can, if he cannot…well he knows they will know. He shook his head, clearing it of his thoughts. He was no longer defenseless, no longer oblivious. He would not let them win. His smile became sharp as he came back to himself. This was who he was now, who he became. Not because of them but in spite of them and he would end them for it. He would be the one to end the man behind the curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was getting too long, but was needed for a bit of back story. I felt like the cut off was a good point. Next chapter will be a true step towards the intended story.
> 
> Please comment and let me know opinions.


	3. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this story is having still a slower start than I initially planned for, I honestly believed I would have them at Hogsmeade by now. Apparently that is not to be just yet. Good news, Its time travel so I can make then arrive in December of 1943 at any point I want. They will only be spending the night at this location before arriving at the village the next day. Also....I discovered an entirely knew character that I had no clue was going to exists and he is going to be so fun to write.

Luna cleared her throat, calling their attention over to the blond. “It’s time” She stated simply. That caused all of them to start, not realizing how close they were running. Hadrian looked at his watch seeing it was nearing the 13th hour. Their ritual was built for a specific point in time and if they did not begin in a number of minutes then they would miss their window.

The twins moved to their selected positions, tightening their winter cloaks over their matching coal silk shirts, black dragon hide pants and dragon hide black boots; while Hadrian, Hermione, Neville, and Luna collected their cloaks from the wall and stepped to their own designated Runes, being careful of the fragile nature of drawn chalk. With everyone in position Hadrian waved his arm lighting the ritual candles placed inside the circle and simultaneously extinguishing the wall sconces and chandelier. Wands had been put away so that their natural magics would not be in play, as the ritual was awfully specific and any foreign magics could be detrimental to its outcome. Taking out his ritual Knife, Hadrian placed a cut across his palm and allowed it to bleed on the Rune at his feet. Floating the Knife to Hermione she repeated the act and passed it to the Twins who sliced themselves merrily and passed it to Neville, who quietly cut his own palm before handing it to Luna, who without hesitation, repeated the process. The knife was floated back to Hadrian, who returned it to its sheath, while everyone continued to spill their blood over the runes. Bright white lines turned crimson as the runes greedily drank in the blood, beginning a soft glow in the low light. Hadrian started chanting in a low voice, the others soon to follow, just above a whisper but still heard echoing through the room. Then the voices started more loudly.

 _“Hanc vitam in sanguine quod oblatum”_ Harry began.

 _“_ _Clausas aperire spatii temporisque_ _”_ Hermione followed.

 _“Salva nos permittit electos sex itineris”_ Fred spoke.

 _“Ad nostrum mutare fata current et transit”_ George said.

 _“Id mutare quod non permittere”_ Neville added.

 _“Protegere et animarum nostrarum extra amnis”_ Luna concluded.

The start of the chant made the glow of the runes steadily increase with every line added. The continued letting of blood on to the runes served to increase the intensity and power of the ritual through pulling of magic through shared blood. With the conclusion of Luna’s voice, they closed their palms cutting off the flow. They returned to the low chant, channeling the magics imbued in the blood soaked runes. Closing his eyes Hadrian allowed the magics to wash over him, feeling the rhythm which began to take on that of blood flowing through a heart. It was a steady thrum overriding the low chanting of the group. He felt the thrumming reach its peak and opened his eyes to transparent dome of crimson energy. It encased the six, remaining outside the edge of the circle of runes and rotating in a counterclockwise direction. Runes flashed across the surface of the dome; Jera and Dagaz, Raidho, Gebo, Uruz, Algiz all appearing and fading in unidentifiable patterns. Steadily the speed began to increase, their chanting following suite. An unnatural wind spiraling in the same direction as the wall of crimson energy, whipping at hair and clothes as the ferocity continued to increase. Their chanting continued, it continued for what felt like hours, never slowing or stopping, pulling at their cloaks and disturbing the hair that had been carefully styled.

Eventually it began to slow, only minutely at first but then more noticeable with the chanting of the six automatically adjusted to match its rhythm. The pressure of the magics slowly dissipating with the conclusion of the ritual. When the magics finally retreated the crimson wall of energy faded into nothing and the chalk lines returned to their original white before disappearing into the dark stones. Hadrian knew upon their disappearance that that ritual was a success, in moving them through time, for the markings only existed in their present and not the past…or the future and not the present. He shook his head thinking that traveling through time was going to be a bit of a headache. The question now became did they land in the time they intended?

He only had a moment to consider this before there was a rushing sound and a strong pushing sensation worked to knock him off his feet. He stood his ground. He felt the pressure against him growing, seeming to center the greatest force against his magic and trying to force him to his knees. He refused to drop and stood his ground, pushing back against the strength of the old wards. _Wards_ , the though sprung an idea. He readjusted his footing and pulled from his robes the ritual knife. Unsheathing it Hadrian placed the blade against his palm and still fresh wound. After barely a second it began to bleed freely again, and he allowed it to spill over the stones of the ritual chamber.

The pressure pulsed once more before ceasing, appearing to receive a boost from his fresh blood and reminding him just how long it had been since they had received family blood. He only now recognized what happened. The wards magic felt separate from his own and he understood why. When he took up the Lordship the Magic of the Peverell Wards tied into his own. Without that claim there was no connection.

He took a deep breath and straightened looking around the ritual chamber and sheathed his knife again. He could not see far past his nose without the ritual candles and decided that needed to be rectified. He waived his uncut palm, calling on his magic for light, and a small sun appeared above his hand. Adjusting his eyes to the low light took him a moment but Hadrian was still able to make out dark shapes in the room. His friends were sprawled against the stones of the floor suggesting the pressures of the wards had succeeded in knocking them down. Hadrian knew that he would need to find the Manor’s Ward Stone and key them into the wards before any of others left the room. That was something they should have thought of prior to the ritual. The wards in the past would not have recognized him and he was fortunate to have remembered his ritual knife or the wards would have crushed them for their trespasses. Luckily, the Wards were sentient enough to have recognized his blood as it fell and released themselves in this room, but he would be the only one allowed to risk leaving this room until he was sure the others were keyed in as per the requirement of the Peverell Wards.

The Peverells were a paranoid clan, as he learned when he first arrived at the manor, and _very_ specific with the creation of their Wards. The only reason the Wards did not continue the barrage on the others was because the Peverell ancestry understood that ritual chambers often housed unusual magics and wrote a specialized ward around it to allow for certain exceptions, if only inside the room itself. In this case his Peverell blood ceased the activation even if he had not yet claimed the title of Lord Peverell in this time. Hadrian allowed himself a brief reprieve before heading over to the smaller blond figure unconscious to his left. Pushing his miniature Sun, he expanded the light and set it to hover in the center of the room before bending down to her side.

Rolling her onto her back, he kept his left hand under her neck for support and took in the face of the girl. She was pale, but that was nothing unusual, and had a slightly peaceful look on her face in unconsciousness. He sighed. Unfortunately, knowing Luna as he did this did not mean that she was unaffected. Most things she simply allowed to was over her without concern. She was fluid in the way that Hermione was rigid and unless you truly knew her and learned her small tells’ then you may never know that there was ever something wrong. But Hadrian could see in the slight twist of her lip that she was not as peaceful as she may have seemed. The weight of the Wards had worked against her natural core before he could shut it off. He had been warned by the Peverell Account Manager, who was so aged that Hadrian believed him to be the original Goblin assigned to the account, before coming to the manor that he should do so alone his first time or the Wards would not be kind. The Wards would not only try to physically push them away, he had said in a whispery voice, but they would push directly against they uninvited witch or wizards’ magical core. Left unchecked it would chip away their magical reserves until they were empty, simplifying their ejection from the property and possibly damaging their core indefinitely.

He winced knowing it could not have been a pleasant sensation. The Goblin had explained that the ward was a design known only to the Peverell line, as many families kept their ward building private in that time. Further, the Peverells only passed the specifics of the Wards construction through the main family line and the Goblin who managed their account. They were concerned in how it could be used if it fell into the wrong hands, fearing what the Ward could be twisted to do. The original family members who developed the Ward were aware enough of what they had created, and that it could be utilized as a weapon as much as it was meant as a defense.

Researching the Ward himself, Hadrian had found it to have very clearly been classified as dark magic but having already learned that the Peverells carried naturally dark cores this was not a surprise to him. Yes, even the creators of this Ward knew of its potential, yet they were concerned enough with the protection of their family line to cast them while keeping the building of them quiet. Members of the family understood the basics of how it reacted so as to protect those they brought to the manor, but the specifications were only known to the current head of house and family Ward Master. Any other Peverell dwellings that needed Warding, or adjustments to their wards, were all seen to through the family Ward Master. Hadrian winced remembering the magical drain he experienced when he first refreshed the Wards. It was not pleasant. He could imagine what his friends were feeling in response to the Wards’ aggression.

He took out his wand with his right hand and waived it in the intricate pattered over her body and speaking lowly. This had been detailed in the family Ward book, one designed to ease the effect of the Wards and retract the power from the victim. He watched as Luna’s eyes pinched harder closed then loosened as she released a groan and returned to consciousness. “Let’s not do that again” she said in one of her lesser moments of transparency. Hadrian chuckled as she opened her eyes and slowly pushed herself up, one arm drifted unconsciously across her chest as if needing to hold herself together. She closed her eyes and sat there for a moment longer as if blocking out her pain, with Hadrian’s arm at her back, then she opened them and gave Hadrian a hard stare. “I will be fine. Go see to the others.”

Never one to ignore a direct order from the girl, Hadrian gave a light smile, half salute and said “Yes ma’am” before moving towards Hermione repeating the process. As he continued he gave each of his friends time to get their bearings before moving on to the next. With finally hearing the grumbling of Fred, as he cursed his return to the world of the living, he took a look around. All of them seemed to be rubbing at their chests with a disconcerted look on their face. “Yeah, sorry everyone. We did not seem to consider the response of the wards when developing the ritual” he said sheepishly. “I doubt any of you are very comfortable right now.”

“That an understatement” Fred and George snorted with simultaneously.

“It feels almost like I have been hollowed out from the inside” Neville responded in dead voice. Pushing his hand firmly against his head.

Hermione groaned again. “I still feel a push against my skin, like something does not want us here” she said as she continued to rub at the spot in her chest.

“That would still be the Wards. I allowed my blood to soak into the stones which ceased the assault of the Wards, but I will need each of your blood to key you all in before they will release…You will need to stay here until that is done.” They nodded too of kilter to voice much else. Hadrian pulled his trunk from the depths of his robes and enlarged it opening the lid he quickly summoned five glass vials before closing and reshrinking his trunk. Placing it back in his robes he pulled out the knife once more. He passed out the vials and handed the knife over absently noting that the enchanted sheath had already removed all previous traces of blood.

The knife made its round again as all each person reopened their cut palms and bleed into their vials. Neville passed back the knife and Hadrian slide it home once more. Collecting the vials Hadrian nodded before exiting the chamber, allowing the door to close behind him he turned left and ignoring the stairs that lead up took the set that would take him down to the heart of the Manor’s bedrock. He reached the bottom and stepped into a long stone corridor with a slight downwards, torches coming to life after registering his magical signature. His steps were echoing on the surrounding stones as he walked briskly through the corridor, passing under stone arches that were set at intervals with torches activating as he went. The hall ended at a set of white wood door which sat in contrast to the onyx stones of the hall and seemed to glow lowly with their own magic.

Hadrian gripped the handle and felt the Wards as they washed over him determining if he would be permitted to enter the room beyond. He expected this remembering his previous experience and wondered if they would permit him since he technically had not claimed the lordship yet. He waited, knowing he could not simply push past the wards. He felt a sting in his hand, and he understood that the wards had taken a sample of his blood from his cut palm to determine his linage. He could feel the pulse of acceptance and the release of the door as it swung inwards.

The room before him lite up as the torches lite. It was an oval shape with the same black stones of the corridor beyond. The only decoration being the Peverell Coat of Armed carved into the wall on the opposite end of the room. There was a circular depression in the middle of the room where a white marble plinth was stood with a large deep purple Amethyst on its platform. Hadrian immediately moved forward recognizing the dimming glow of the stone as warning of the weakening of the wards. He hummed knowing that the wards had expanded its limited energy reserves from the last Peverell Lord when attempting to protect the ritual chamber. Looking down at his hand he noted it was still bleeding lightly from the pulling of the door. He placed it directly on the Ward stone and felt as the Stone first tested his blood before latching onto his palm and drinking greedily. He felt the pull on his magic indicating the Wards recognition and response.

He reiterated the words that came to him naturally, “I, Hadrian James Potter-Black-Peverell claim my right as heir and future Lord to the Peverell family. I submit my blood and my magics to the protection of the past and future line, and the Rights of the same.”

The Ward Stone pulsed and began to brighten, filling the room with a strong radiant light, almost overpowering the brackets on the wall. The ward stone continued to pull on his blood and his magic draining him to his limits. Hadrian allowed it knowing he could not have removed his hand even if he had wanted. He closed his eyes as the light of the stone nearly blinded him before flashing and settling into a light lavender glow that reflected off of the onyx surface of the room. Taking back his hand he looked at his palm and saw that the magics of the stone had healed it cleanly, as if it had never been there at all.

“With the blood of my chosen, grant their access to the Peverell estate and grounds.” He raised the vials and slowly poured each one over the stone, watching the flash of white each time before returning to its natural purple. He pressed his hand once more against the stone and pulsed his magic through sealing his will within the wards. While the Wards had not yet recognized him as Lord, they did recognize his blood as the heir, and in lieu of an actual Lord to the line their sentience allowed them to respond to him as an acting Lord with selective authority. Once he was to claim the Lord title, he would have full authority and the Wards magic would tie beck into him.

Hadrian took a couple of steps back and sat on the lip of the depression. He felt lightheaded and knew that he needed to get back to the others least he passes out himself. He knew that held only the barest amounts of magic and was thankful for the torches that bracketed the wall as he took deep and slow breaths. His magic would replenish relatively quickly but it did not make the initial drain any more pleasant. His blood on the other hand was going to require a blood replenishing potion. Thankfully, Hermione had had the forethought to brew an entire cauldron full prior to the ritual as a precaution. Pushing himself up he exited the room and heard the door close behind him as he walked back down the corridor.

He returned to the ritual Chamber and the low rumble of conversation which cut off when he opened the door. His own sun must have failed as his magic was drawn by the Wards because the room glowed by the telltale blue ball flames Hermione so loved. All eyes were trained on him as he walked in and smiled weakly. “You are all tied in. We can move up to the main manor and actual light now.”

He heard the irritated huff from Hermione as she moved dug in her bag. “Honestly Hadrian, you could have taken a one before refreshing the wards.” She pressed a vial filled with red liquid into his hand. “Drink”. She said simply. Hadrian nodded and downed the replenisher, his body relaxed slightly as he felt the rush of blood running through his veins and as warmth return to his fingers and toes. Looking down he flexed his fingers a few times, _Hun_ he thought, _it tingles_ , he hadn’t registered just _how_ much blood he must have lost.

He looked back up and gave a more genuine smile “Thank you, Mione. It was needed.” He still felt the magical drain, but the lightheaded feeling had begun to lessen. “Let’s move upstairs, we can discuss options there.” They all nodded and left the room choosing the upwards staircase. Making it to the ground floor there was a small series of pops as nine house-elves appeared. They seemed frozen in a state of shock as they looked at Hadrian with wide eye, tearing in happiness. Hadrian recognized each one from when he first arrived at the manor, their reactions was one of similar disbelief and excitement.

“Master Peverell has returned” one squealed excitedly and throwing its hands up in the air. The rest shook out of their state of shock, some squealing in delight while others seemed to vibrate with enthusiasm. One elf towards the back was joyously jumping up and down beside two elves who were hugging each other with silent tears falling from their eyes. Hadrian covered his eyes and began rubbing his temples in exasperation. He could hear the snickering of his friends behind them. Even Hemione was laughing lightly. After having thoroughly researched the relationship between elves and their wizard family’s she was much more accepting of the “symbiotic relationship” as she described it. She now understood that without a wizarding family to bond to the elven population would have died out long ago.

Two centuries ago the wild elves started to notice a drop in their magical potency, some clans reported losing the connection to their own magics all together. It was concluded by the elven healers of the time that a magical illness had spread through the clans. No matter the healing magics, or potions, applied neither elven nor wizard healers were able to identify a cure. In an effort to save their weakening connection an elder elf had eventually discovered a solution through the bonding of elves to Wizards. This bond allowed the elf to draw on the ambient magic of a witch or wizard to access their own magical cores. Some of the elven clans had rejected this bond choosing to search for their own solution, but many of those clans soon learned that the broken connection was impacting the health of their clan members more than just magically. Many began feel ill and passed much earlier in life than was previous. Less females were able to become pregnant and even fewer were able to bare the baby to term.

With the declining population of the wild elves, the remaining Clan Elders meet, and it was determined that the best option available was for them to bond with wizarding families. While a majority of the wild clans accepted this, two clans rejected this course and chose to continue to search for their own method of healing. With the decision made the remaining clans began to forge these bonds between themselves and the old wizarding families, their life spans began to return to what they were, and there was a steady increase of the birthing rates of the elf population. With the numbers of houselves stabilizing they began to believe fully in their wizarding families and were only too happy to be able to aid them in any way they were able. Thus, they began to tend the house, gardens, and family with the basic day to day needs of the home, profoundly grateful to be able to access their magic and for the survival of their race. The historical records of the two clans, which rejected the bonding, were sketchy as they simple seemed to disappear within the magical community. After near fifty years had passed, with no sightings of the two clans, it was assumed that they had succumbed to the illness known as the Elven Plague.

Once Hermione learned the truth of the elvish histories, she rejected her own stance taken with the SPEW foundation and focused her anger and efforts towards those families which treated their elves which disrespect reminiscent of the Malfoy family. She had particular rant one night about it in the room of requirement, focusing her resentment on Draco Malfoy’s treatment of Dobby, coincidently after a run in with him that afternoon. She had been so irate that she had not even noticed that the Twin’s, Luna, and Hadrian were snickering at her tirade and how Neville was just watching her with an astonished expression. For one so intelligent she was glaring oblivious sometimes.

Hadrian opened his eyes and located the elf he was looking for. It was the only elf that had remained stoic at his arrival. Darten meet his eyes directly and seemed to come to a wordless understanding. At the clearing of Darten’s throat the other elves immediately quieted. This was always an aspect of Darten Hadrian greatly appreciated, he maintained a quiet composure unlike the other elves Hadrian knew. Darten was the head elf and ran the manor as a very tight ship, the other elves all clearly respected him and headed his words. He was able to calm the elves in a manner that Hadrian was never able to do.

“Allow the new master to speak.”

“Thank you Darten” Hadrian said. Even with his unusual self-control Hadrian could see the slight widening of Darten’s eyes at Hadrian’s knowledge of his name.

“My friends and have just arrived through a rather intense ritual and are in need of a late lunch. Peggy,” he said turning his eyes to the head kitchen elf. She gave a small gasp when Hadrian said her name without prompting. “Would a light meal be possible in the smaller dining hall?” She nodded enthusiastically, large ears flapping with the movement.

“Peggy be preparing one right away Master Peverell sir”

“Please, not Master Peverell, I would prefer Hadrian.”

“Yes, Master Hadrian” She said before popping away.

Hadrian rolled his as eyes skyward as his friend’s snickers renewed. His constant battle with his elves for them to only call him Hadrian were of constant amusement to his friends, particularly when Dobby was involved. The darn elf was so fanatically loyal that after he bonded himself to Hadrian, he refused to call him anything other than Master. He knew that this was going to be another constant battle, as even Darten refused to drop the Master as an honorific. He sighed. “We appreciate your welcome, but I would like you all to go back to your duties for now.” He could see the slight drop of their faces at being dismissed so quickly and added “We will not be leaving the manor today and I will be officially taking the title of Lord Peverell in the coming weeks.”

At this the faces of the elves returned to open happiness with the knowledge that their new master would not be abandoning them so soon. Hadrian internally winced, he remembered from conversations with Darten that the Elves of the Manor had begun to despair that a Peverell Lord would ever return after half a century had passed since the last lord. The only thing that saved the generations of elves was a combination of the depth of ambient magic present on the grounds and the magical reserves that several generations of Peverells poured into a specialty ward to protect the life and magical wellbeing of their elves. “Darten please stay behind for a moment, I wish to discuss something with you.”

He turned to another elf “Koby,” He ignored the gasp of the elf at his name “would you prepare the rooms for the evening?” Koby had his hands over his mouth to suppress his excitement. “Yes, Master Hadrian, right away Master Hadrian.” Hadrian closed his eyed waiving his hand in dismissal to the rest of the elves. The number of pops indicated that the remaining elves has disappeared throughout the Manor.

“Let’s move to the drawing room Darten.” The elf nodded, giving him a shrewd look and turning abruptly to lead the way down the hall. Hadrian and the rest followed allowing the elf to show them to a room they had been to many times before. None of them bothering to mention they knew the way. They entered the familiar room with dark green carpets over trademark onyx stone, the opposite wall housed a large fire that ignited as soon as they entered the room and provided a soothing yellow glow. The side wall offered three floor to ceiling windows that would permit natural light to flood the room had it not been dusk. Looking at the darkening sky Hadrian mentally corrected that it would be an early supper and not a late lunch. The wall opposite offered a small dry bar carrying a number of high quality wines, whiskies, and assortment of other liquors to meet anyone’s tastes. The center of the room held a chocolate brown leather sofas and love seat and matching armchairs ringing a mahogany coffee table.

Upon crossing the threshold, the twins went immediately to the dry bar while the Neville, Hermione and Luna took their usual seats, Luna sitting cross legged in her armchair, Neville on the floor, back against the same armchair, and Hermione sitting primly on the end of her loveseat. “Forge, Gred” Hadrian said warningly. They froze, eyes snapping to Hadrian with wide, pleading eyes. “Oh, please Master Hadrian….” Fred said imitating and excited elf “May Gred and Forge please have just one?” The others snickered again from their seats, while Hadrian simply stood and gave them his empty glare. They all knew that this particular look held no heat and it often did nothing increase the hilarity. As such Fred and George both walked over and dropped to their knees giving mock boys, “Please, please Master,” they said in unison “allow Gred and Forge each their own drink?” Hadrian snorted before crossing his arms “You’re impossible” he said mock seriously while staring down his nose at them both. The others had devolved into full laughter by this point and the hilarity of it broke the tension from the aftereffects of the ritual and ward response. Hadrian himself could feel that his magical reserves were marginally improving, and he estimated that at this rate they would be replenished by morning. He shook his head at their and gestured to the sitting area. The twins stood with their typical grace and moved to their shared sofa, stretching themselves out across it and looking utterly at ease.

He turned to Darten and saw he observing the interaction with his quiet intelligence. Hadrian knew he was cataloging everything he saw. He sighed and rubbed at the back of his head, knowing the elf as he had come to, he knew there was nothing for it but telling him the truth, he was an intelligent being and there was not much that he had missed in the past…ahh future. He was the shrewdest elf Hadrian had yet to meet and was fully loyal to the Peverell line. The line being the optimum word there. He was loyal to the family line before the individual and would not hesitate to manipulate an order if he felt it would be in protection of the family line. Hadrian respected that and thought it was oddly Slytherin of the old elf. He had also learned that there was not much Darten was unaware of in the Manor and he was dead useful with information relating to the history of the Peverells. In the future he had been able earn the quiet respect, and eventually, the loyalty of the head elf. He trusted Darten with his life and he knew elf would be fully capable of determining what the other elves would need to know.

“Darten,” he started “there would be no sense in lying to you and I would be a fool to attempt to,” he smirked as the old elf’s eyes widened again at his words and continued “besides I respect you too much and our past interactions speak for themselves.” His friends snorted again, and Hadrian gave them a look. He was definitely over the reminder of the time he had tried to slip past Darten while seriously injured and ended up frozen by the elf’s magic and lectured for a near two hours on his irresponsibility and how did he expect to protect the family line if he was not alive to do so. Apparently, Luna had seen what had happened and she and the others had rushed to the Manor to find him being levitated through the halls and into his bed. All while still being lectured by the old elf. After they had all ensured that he had received the proper healing potions and required rest they had all teased him relentlessly about the occurrence. When Hadrian asked him about how he was able to do so, the elf chuckled darkly and said “Masters have always been naive on the workings of elf magic” before popping out. It had made Hadrian shudder and swear to never cross Darten if he could help it. He also did some research and learned that although elves used the ambient magic of wizards, their methods of their own magics were still quiet unknown to the wizarding population. He had again shuddered at what it could mean if more elves were like Darten and had the intelligence to understand how they could manipulate their bonds if they chose to do so.

“I know you interest is in maintaining the family line, and your loyalty is hard earned. As such I would like to start by explaining why exactly we came from the ritual chamber and not from outside of the wards.” With every word the elf’s eyebrows continued to climb his forehead in disbelief of what he was hearing, his usual stoic mask slipping in the wake of his new Master’s words. Hadrian understood Darten’s disbelief. He had once explained to Hadrian that his exposure to wizards was limited but he had a thorough understanding of how most wizards had begun to see his elven brethren, and he had been privately pleased that he had not had to handle an entitled master that would mistreat those in his family. Upon Hadrian’s arrival he had be waiting and watching for signs of an arrogant wizard and grew quite happy with what he observed. Hadrian only hoped that he could build the same bridges the second time around.

Hadrian walked to his armchair and sat down. “We arrived by ritual, as I am sure you could gather. However, the ritual itself was unusual as it was designed to bring us through time and not through...well arguable through space.” He looked at Hemione for confirmation, while he, Luna and her all contributed to its development she had the most intricate understanding of what they did. She nodded before looking over to Darten, who had completely dropped his mask as is jaw fell. “The ritual was designed to bring us approximately fifty-three years in the past with a few months of variance. We expected to end in the same location we started prior to our own place in the timeline.” She said simply while pushing her hair back over her shoulder. Darten slowly closed his mouth looking around at the wizards around him, wondering at their power to travel through time.

Hadrian picked the conversation back up by saying “We are here for a specific purpose and know that your personal knowledge and skills would be essential to our plans” the elves eyes snapped back to him. “How is Master Hadrian knowing how Darten is skilled?” Regardless of his intelligence Darten could never get out of the elven speech patter, a fact that Hadrian always knew irritated the elf.

He sighed recognizing the elf’s suspicion, “Darten when I first took the Peverell Lordship you were distance, you made clear that your loyalty was specific to the line over the individual and weary of having a new master. We had a year and a half to learn about one another and what I learned in that time is you maintained the collective knowledge of all Peverell Head Elves before you, and that you could learn any information you felt was important for you to know, regardless of any intentions I may have had.” He chuckled remembering a few _disagreements_ they had had after Darten had determined he would be good for the family, which mainly consisted of the elf discovering certain information and lecturing him on his idiocy, reminding him that he was there to help his Master, and gathering whatever information from the library that would aid in his research. He also eventually started information gathering himself, knowing who his master’s enemies were, and taking his master’s need for protection as a silent order. He was quite adept at hiding in the shadows and slipping past wizarding wards. Hadrian had fallen out of his chair the first time Darten had brought him information directly from the old man’s latest order meeting. The twins had had their own transcripts from and updated version of the ears, but Darten had popped right into the room of requirement while they waited for the twins. After that instance he had face _another_ lecture from Darten about propriety and had to listen to Hermione and Luna laugh for the rest of the evening…it only got worse when Neville and the twins arrived.

“I know all of the elves and their roles and that you take your position in the household as not only the manager of the home, but as protector for those inside. While I cannot count that we will maintain our relationship I would like to try. You can make your observations and may ask what you feel you need to…” he gave the elf another smirk, not really expecting him to ask any questions, “although my bet is you would prefer your usual method of information gathering”. He truly enjoyed the elf and his refreshing personality, but he also knew well how he operated, and his loyalty would only be won over time. He expected he would have a bit of a shadow when he arrived in Hogwarts. Darten had returned to his unreadable face and nodded after a moment of consideration.

“Darten will think on what new master has said and will ask what Darten needs to.” He said matter of factly. He nodded again as if affirming this to himself.

At that moment there was a resounding pop and Peggy stood beside Darten. Master Hadrian’s and Master Hadrian’s guests’ meal is ready, please follow Peggy.

“Thank you, Peggy.” Hadrian said, as the elf nearly skipped from the room with her joy.

“Well at least we know the elves won’t break down hysterically, every time we say thank you” George said as he jumped from the shared sofa.

“Yes, but the cost was them being alone five hundred years” Hermione said sadly. “Other house elves respond that way because they have learned that their wizards never show appreciation. It’s a double edged sword. These elves have never experienced the poor treatment of some wizard families, but they also never experienced any interactions at all. They had begun to believe they had been abandoned.

“Well, that’s going to change.” Harry said flatly. He came to adore the Peverell house elves and lamented the fact that so many generations had been alone with the breakdown of the line. He vowed to ensure that it would never happen again and the Peverell line would always have a Lord. They exited the room following the excitable elf down the hall with the silent eyes of the elder elf maintaining watch from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you are thinking so far.
> 
> Ritual Translations
> 
> Ritual Chant:
> 
> Take this offering of life and blood  
> To open closed gates of space and time  
> Allow Safe Travels for us chosen six  
> To change our fate and the current past  
> Permit that change which would not be  
> And protect our Souls outside of the stream
> 
> Runes:
> 
> Jera – Year; Cycles of Time and Change  
> Dagaz – Day; Awakening and paradoxical truth  
> Raidho - Journey  
> Gebo – Fair Exchange and Sacrifice  
> Uruz – Endurance and Independence  
> Algiz – Protection and Spiritual Connection


End file.
